The Bong Between Us
by Slinky-and-the-BloodyWands
Summary: AU Mid Year 6. Ever suspicious of Draco, Harry finds the Slytherin smoking an illegal drug called Dragon’s Breath. Students slowly show up one at a time to pass the magic bong and bond. Crude humor.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize.**

**Summary: AU Year 6. Ever suspicious of Draco, Harry finds the Slytherin smoking an illegal drug called Dragon's Breath. Student's slowly show up one at a time to pass the magic bong and bond. Total comedy.**

**A/N: I guess this needs no explanation. The summary says it all. This is to be taken light heartedly, not seriously. I do not recommend anyone using drugs to get closer to their fellow man. Just say no, kiddies. **

"**The Bong between Us"**

Malfoy was definitely up to something.

Harry abandoned his fork in a plate of eggs and stared across the Great Hall at the Slytherin Prince. The morning mail had just arrived moments earlier. While the rest of the Gryffindor table was discussing what their mums had sent them or the headlines on the front of the Daily Prophet, he was watching Malfoy examine a most particular package that had dropped in front of his table setting.

Draco gazed at it in wonder, taking no notice of the eyes upon him or of his own queer behavior. He picked up the oddly shaped parcel and ran a hand over its long, paper covered base. Then Malfoy did something extremely uncharacteristic—he _smiled_. It was not a haughty smirk but a surefire grin spreading from ear to ear. The expression of joy was not unlike that which he often wore after torturing a group of first years, Hufflepuffs if he was having a good day. Harry had never seen him so unbearably _happy_.

Yes, indeed, the package had to contain some sort of muggleborn/half-blood killing device. These words must have left Harry's mouth for suddenly several pairs of eyes lifted to meet him.

Ron shrugged. "He's an evil prat. Could you pass the sausages, mate?"

Harry shoved the plate at his friend, frowning. "I'm serious!"

The Weasley's eyes widened, and he whispering out the side of his mouth, "Hermione, it's worse than we expected. He's calling himself. . ."

"No! That's not what I'm talking about," Harry snapped. "Malfoy! Has no one been paying attention to Malfoy. He's obviously planning something evil, and none of you will hear me out."

"Harry," Hermione touched his arm with a worried expression on her face, "don't you think you're being a bit paranoid?"

"Paranoid? Paranoid? All that we've seen him do this year alone, and you think I'm being PARANOID!" Harry fumed.

"Shhhhh," Hermione hissed. "People are watching. They'll think you're mad, Harry."

"How could they not? My best friends don't even believe me." Harry looked up suddenly. Malfoy was gone, as was the object he revered so much. "Where did he go? The bugger's getting away!"

"Away with what, Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry didn't answer. Instead, he stood up, quickly surveying the Hall before running toward the closest exit. He had to find Malfoy. Rock solid evidence of Draco's horrific plans would soon be his, and then who would they call paranoid?

He turned a corner, his eye catching the tail of a robe. Harry had caught sight of the other wizard running toward . . . the Astronomy tower?

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"Soon, soon, my precious," Draco whispered, holding the package tight against him as he took the tower's stairs two at a time. So engrossed with the object was he, that he did not even hear the clomping sound of footsteps following him. He stroked the beauty in his arms lovingly.

"And I won't share—I absolutely will not share!" he hissed. Last time he had gotten away, a few of the other Slytherins had followed him into the dungeons and begged to take part. Why did he always find it so very easy to 'share' after he'd taken the kiss?

"I minor side effect," he assured himself. Then, with a dopey smile, he added. "Once I've burned, I'd probably even share with the stupid Golden Boy."

He reached the top in less time than he had ever in the past. Taking a soothing breath, he opened the door to the roof and walked outside into the semi-bright daylight. A few gray clouds were drifting overhead, whispering of certain rain, but Draco didn't care. That would certainly insure that no quidditch players would be practicing this early in the day. Also, since it was usually used for astronomy purposes, no classes would be on the roof until nightfall. He had it all to himself.

Malfoy slid against the wall so that he could look out of one of its gaps and see the school yard quite easily. Carefully, he crossed his legs and began to unwrap the object before him. The paper slid down, drifting in the surreal nature of anticipation. A moment later, it was revealed, a sight to behold in splendid jade and silver. A rounded, full body entrapped in magnificent wings formed the foundation. Then it tapered at base of the neck, forming a long, lithe tube that ended with a wide gaping mouth of jagged teeth and the furious head of a dragon.

"Oh, it's been too long," Draco whispered, pulling out a small velvet bag.

He opened it, sniffing its contents with a sigh of rapture. Suddenly, the dragon moved, one wing breaking away and held out like an awaiting hand. Draco tilted the bag, letting tiny red petals fall out of the opening onto the wing. The wing curled to hold the gift and then folded back to empty it into its waiting stomach and sealed itself. Draco pulled out his wand and tapped the body lightly. A second later, a thin wisp of pink smoke clouded at the mouth.

Draco bent down to put his mouth over the Dragon's in what looked like an awkwardly placed kiss. The Slytherin pulled back, pink clouds burling out of his nostrils. He laughed lightly.

"Oh, damn, that was nice."

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Harry cocked his head, a look of confusion crossing his features. He had followed Malfoy to the roof top, but the Gryffindor still stood at the door way, watching cautiously. However, he could not keep up his spying any longer.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy," he said, amazed. "Is that a bong?"

Draco's eyes lifted, the joyful expression still present but now mixed with more glaze than a donut. "Nope," he said, his words slurred. "It's a fog machine. Care to dance?"

Harry raised a brow. Part of him felt extreme fear at the prospect having to relive his ball room training, but another piece of him was curious about the pink smoke. What on earth could possibly make Malfoy pull the stick out of his arse (seemingly)?  
Fear won, of course. Strangely, it had nothing to do with the bong or possible tango lessons and everything to do with two female bodies tangled in a deadly cat fight toppling into him. He hit the ground hard, and then, in the very essence of clichés and bad timing, his world went black.

**End Notes: Yes, I am aware that the first chapter wasn't too funny, but I promise it gets better. This story will only be a few parts long, so you'll learn about the effects of the drug in the next part. Do come back, and do review (I'll give you a peace pipe :).**


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter was having a very pleasant dream about a girl in a bunny costume, the Sorting hat, and a four foot high chocolate cake when a pink cloud of smoked appeared in his subconscious mind and asked him if he would like a puff.

"Malfoy, don't you dare stick that in Harry's mouth!" cried an indignant voice.

"He said 'yes', Granger," came the cool reply. "He practically asked for it."

"But he's not in his right mind! He probably has a concussion."

"Well, if someone's fat arse hadn't squished his famous forehead into the rooftop. . ."

"Don't talk about Hermione's arse that way, Zabini!"

"Keep your mouth shut if you want your turn, Weasley."

Harry's eyes flickered open, and he let out a stream of coughs, a cottony taste at the back of his throat. Draco Malfoy was bending over him with a lazy, dazed smile on his usually hard face. He was carefully holding his dragon bong with both hands.

"Hello," he said.

Harry raised a brow. Before he could speak, the crowd surrounding him moved forward. Blaise Zabini had his arm around Pansy Parkinson's shoulders and stood right at Harry's feet. To his side, Hermione sat on her knees with a worried expression on her face. Ron gave his friend a lopsided grin from behind the witch.

"Are you alright, Harry? Does anything hurt?" Hermione asked. She held her hand in front of his face. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Draco let out a short laugh and put his hand up, all fingers extended, and began to wave it frantically in front of Harry's nose, pushing Hermione out of the way. "How many, Potter?"

"Five," Harry growled up at Draco.

"Wrong. There's obviously four." Malfoy squinted his eyes. "One's a thumb, you see. . . Well, that's that. Granger, I hate to tell you this, but Potter's completely nutters."

Pansy burst into giggles, and Hermione glared at the group of Slytherins. "Then we should probably get him to the Hospital Wing," the know-it-all answered, crossing her arms.

"Hermione, I don't know about that. . ." Ron answered. He gestured out with one hand, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I mean, he looks right enough."

"Ronald Weasley!" she snapped, whipping around to face the red head. "I can't believe you'd sacrifice Harry's health just for the chance to bum drugs off of your rivals!"

Ron's face flushed. "But it's Dragon's Breath," he whined. "Don't you understand what that is? We could wait our whole lives and never get this chance again. Please, Hermione. It will just take a few minutes. . . And then we can go back to hating them again."

"Would someone mind telling me what the bloody hell is going on?" Harry snapped.

"Don't curse, Harry," Hermione snapped back. "If you must know, Ron and I went searching for you after breakfast. We happened to run into Parkinson and Zabini engaged in . . . . Well, they were at the base of the Astronomy tower. We asked if you had passed by . . . Apparently, they hadn't seen you, but when we mentioned Malfoy's behavior in the Great Hall, they said that they knew where the two of you were most likely headed."

Harry pushed himself up on his elbows. "And how does that account for the splitting headache I now have?"

"Well, Parkinson and I got into a bit of a squabble when we reached the roof. . ."

"They were tearing each other's hair out," Zabini interjected.

"And we were watching," Ron added.

"And I was winning," Pansy sneered, tossing her bob back dramatically.

"Then," Hermione interrupted, a look of frustration on her face, "we fell through the door and onto you. We would have rushed you to the Hospital Wing, but Malfoy stopped us, guaranteeing that he had something of value to offer us as long as we didn't alert any professors to our presence. At first we thought he meant information, then Ron recognized the bong he was holding."

"It is a legend," Ron sighed.

"This 'something of value' was a drug?" Harry surmised. "Hermione! You were going to try a drug. Of all people, I thought you we be level headed enough not to. . ."

"Harry! Yes, it is a drug, but it is not a health risk, per se. Also, it is very rare, and it is not addictive." She glanced up at Malfoy. "Not addictive to most, I should say. In form, it is a bit like muggle narcotics, but it is definitely not as lethal. It's a dried plant called Dragon's Breath, and it has been outlawed in wizarding society since the early sixties, even thought it does have some healthy benefits that were recorded by healers. The chance to experiment with the drug in pure form would be extremely valuable. The books on Dragon's Breath are incomplete, contradictory, and biased at best. Why, if I could simply write a thesis on its effects using a first hand source. . ."

Harry raised a hand to stop her. "Why was it outlawed?"

"Well, there were some . . . unplanned pregnancies due to its use," Hermione replied, her cheeks blushing slightly. "On one occasion, a wizard mistook his muggle mother's vacuum for his broom and jumped off a rooftop."

"OH, well, pass it to me," Harry cheered, his voice laced in sarcasm.

Ron shook his head. "That was one time. And that wizard was alone. We're in group, mate! We'll be perfectly safe."

"And the pregnancies. . ." Harry began. "Can you say 'orgy'?"

The Weasley growled. "Harry, come off it! That won't happen to us."

Hermione gave him a doubtful look. "Actually, if my readings are at least somewhat correct. . ."

"You've already taken a bloody hit!" Zabini interrupted. "I guess your friends forgot to mention that. . . Just as they're not informing you that you're talking with a slur that currently outmatches Draco's."

"I'm not slurrrring," said an affronted Draco.

Harry rubbed his forehead. "I thought that was just the concussion. . . That explains why my head's swimming." He turned back to Hermione. "You let Malfoy give me drugs?"

"Not much—and you did ask for it." Hermione shook her head. "I've had just about enough, Harry! We're doing this. I'm taking notes. Watch or join in." She snatched the bong out of Draco's hands, putting it to her lips in an almost passionate pose.

"I'm next," Pansy called, running over to join the Gryffindors.

"This is bloody insane," Harry muttered. "This has to be some sort of elaborate fantasy I've concocted from all of my pinned up rage and sexual frustrations."

Malfoy snorted.

"What exactly does this drug do to the user?" Harry asked, though he was somewhat beginning to feel the effects himself.

"There are four phases," Pansy replied. "Last time Draco got his hands on the drug, Professor Snape caught us while we were still in phase one and performed a head clearing spell on us—we got a detention for that one. The first is the depressant phase. It will put you in a drunkard's stupor after a few puffs. However, I've heard of the other ones from my grandmother (she loved the stuff). The second stage acts as a stimulant, the third a hallucinogen, and the final phase brings the user back down with feeling of euphoria."

Harry attempted to process this new information, but it was all he could do to keep himself from falling back onto the floor. "Sounds interesting."

Hermione smiled at him, pulling the bong away from her lips and passing it to Pansy. A bit of pink smoke swirled out of her nostrils. She pulled her bag to her side and snatched a piece of parchment and a quill. "Everyone," she said, her voice slow, but as decisive as ever, "I want you to tell me what you're feeling so that I can write it down, alrighty?"

Malfoy laughed. "I'm laughing, so I'm depressed."

Hermione scribbled something down with a chuckle. "Note, the first…" She looked up, blinking, and promptly fell onto Harry's chest.

Zabini smirked. "I suppose Pansy forgot to mention the 'tolerance' factor."


	3. Chapter 3

This was nice.

Very nice.

Harry passed the bong back to Malfoy, leaning back onto the stone wall. Hermione had awoken a few moments ago and was presently sitting in Ron's lap, balancing her parchment on her knees. Harry saw that instead of taking notes, she was presently drawing something very strange.

"That's very pretty, Hermione," he said, staring at the parchment. Pretty was not quite the word to describe the crude but elaborately detailed drawing she was presently concocting. "Who's the well endowed bloke standing behind the girl?"

Hermione didn't look up. "I think it's Malfoy."

Draco looked up from his position over the bong. "Did someone say my name? I swear I heard it. Oh, my dear Mr. Potter, was it you?"

Harry raised a brow. "Nope." The boy-who-lived-to-get-stoned-out-of-his-head chuckled lightly. "That's a funny word 'nope'. It rhymes with dope."

Blaise opened his mouth and let out a long laugh. "Good one, Potter."

"That was stupid," Pansy snapped. "I'm not stoned enough yet to laugh. Could someone please pass me that damned bong again?"

"Do you hear footsteps?" Ron asked, shifting his body so to move Hermione onto his right leg. He glanced down at to drawing that had been entertaining Harry for the last few minutes. "Hey, is that me on bottom?" he asked, touching the parchment lightly. "I see my freckles."

"Oh, dear," Hermione muttered. She sighed at the picture, turning over the parchment. "I suppose I'll have to take my notes on the back. So, note the first. . . So, Dragon's Breath. Malfoy, how do you feel about your home life? Were you hugged often as a child? Do you find yourself waking in the middle of the night after having strange dreams about your mother? Are you threatened by your father?"

"Did you draw a dirty picture of me on the back of that parchment?" Malfoy asked, eyes widening. "You naughty bookworm!"

Hermione blushed. "It's not like it's a moving picture. . . Anyhow, what was I asking? Oh, damn, I've forgotten. And my bloody quill's leaking. Anyhow, on to Zabini. How do you feel about the gender confusion issues that were following your name in previous school years? Are you firm in your sexuality with Parkinson?"

"I definitely hear footsteps," Ron interrupted.

And Ron was not yet hallucinating.

Three seconds later two very curious faces appeared through the entrance to the rooftop.

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Ginny was not having a good day.

She had awoken decisively cranky. A shower had not changed her mood in the bit. Neither had slipping on the tile floor and busting her arse. She had proceeded to spill ink onto her transfiguration's assignment and on the gushy, fluff of a love note that Dean Thomas had slipped into her bag the day before. No, she was not having a good day.

Matters were made no better when, as she was headed toward breakfast, she saw Harry following a very preoccupied Draco Malfoy out of the Great Hall. At the time, she had rolled her eyes, expecting to hear the sound of hexes being fired within the next thirty seconds (honestly, boys would be boys). In fact she had expected that a fight between the two would lighten her day somewhat, at least give her a good laugh when Malfoy came back covered in boils.

However, she waited a full minute and still heard nothing. Then, surprisingly, she spotted Ron and Hermione running toward the Astronomy tower together, in the very same direction that Draco and Harry had went.

This was getting more and more interesting.

Ginny glanced around, instinctively seeing if the coast was clear for her to follow in pursuit. It was not. Luna Lovegood was walking her way, airily twirling her fingers around a lock of hair skipping every third stone on the walk, probably in defense of some imaginary creature that she was determined was taking over the school.

"Luna," Ginny hissed.

The girl looked up, somewhat dazed. "Ginny?" She smiled.

Ginny put a finger to her lips to keep the other girl quiet and motioned for Luna to approach. The Ravenclaw creeped to her side, a dumbfounded expression upon her face.

"I just saw something rather odd," Ginny said as she approached. "I spotted Draco, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all running into the Astronomy tower."

Luna covered her mouth with one hand. "Oh, are they having an affair? I can see the headlines now."

Ginny raised a brow. "Hopefully not. However, I would like to know what they're all up to. I'm going to follow them. Will you cover for me in class?"

Luna shook her head. "I want to come, too."

The Gryffindor growled in frustration. "Find, but afterward we have to explain to Professor McGonagall that . . . that we were both sick and locked up in the privy for the class time."

"We swallowed doxy eggs and were overcome by intestinal spasms," Luna nodded.

"Sure," Ginny said, ignoring the blonde. "They went this way. Let's go."

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"Fascinating. . . _The_ Dragon's Breath." Luna sighed in wonder. She had read several articles on those fascinating red flowers. Her father had written editorials on the Ministry's conspiracy to keep all of the drugs for themselves. "I was a dragon baby myself. It was illegal at the time, but mum and dad got there hands on a. . ."

Harry stared at her, murmuring out the side of his mouth, "Are you sure there are no side effects, 'Mione?"

Ginny elbowed him lightly, deciding to take a seat at his side. "So, I can't believe we caught you doing drugs. This is actually hilarious. What would mother say, ickle Ron?"

"Shove off, Gin," Ron snapped. "Are you staying or not?"

The two girls had arrived moments earlier to everyone's surprise. However, before they could show their amazement at finding some of their house enemies and friends sitting in a circle passing a bong, the drugged students had begged them to join in. Strangely enough, they had not refused.

"Now that we have representatives from all the houses," Malfoy began.

"Wait, there's not a Hufflepuff here," Hermione interrupted.

Draco raised a brow. "Really? You don't see the Hufflepuff with dreadlocks sitting beside Pansy."

The Slytherin Princess let out a shriek, almost jumping into Blaise's lap. Indeed there was a very pale, pudgy Hufflepuff male sitting beside her, presently staring at her chest. "What up, my sister?" he said, nodding his head and biting his bottom lip.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, feeling that he surely wasn't the only person asking that question.

"Call me the Joster," he said, still nodding like a bobble-headed puppy. His flip-flop clad feet stuck out from beneath is student robes. "Pass the bong, would you?"

"Did he follow you girls up?" Ron asked, looking to his sister.

Ginny shook her head. "I didn't see him get here."

"Like I was saying," Malfoy stated, "we have a representative from every house. This is fool proof. What teacher is going to expel us without knocking off one of their own students? No one can stop us now. We are force to be reckoned with! We are. . . Is anyone else hot?"

Before Harry could ask Malfoy to not take off his robe, he felt the sudden need to stand up and stretch his legs. He stood up quickly, his mind racing. "Phase two is a go," he announced.

He was beginning to enjoy this Dragon's Breath.

**End Notes: Ok, so maybe not as funny, but I promise that their will be laughs to come. Random: Chicken. Anyhow, review if you like…or if you don't, doesn't much matter, lol. **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Drug use? Check. Meaningless sex talk? Check. Useless information? Check. Random much? Check, check, check. **

"And they locked me in a closet," _hop,_ "and I had to wear my pig of a cousin's clothes," _hop,_ "which completely destroyed my dreams," _hop,_ "of being England's hippest young fashion designer and. . . ." _Hop._ "And I can _so_ jump higher than you, Malfoy!"

"No you damn well can't! Look it! I'm jumping higher, and I'm not even trying!" The blond Slytherin jumped up and down off of his toes, clenching his jaw as he strained his neck to gain height over the other wizard.

"You're about to pass out, you bloody idiot! Give it up."

"No, I'm not, stupid scarhead. You and your bloody hero complex—you'd think you'd let me win. . . ."

Draco most likely had more of a retort on its way. However, he'd just attempted to jump over Luna Lovegood's still and rather stoned form (much like her normal self), tripped and found himself having a very intimate relationship with the rooftop. "Stupid girl!" he snapped looking over his shoulder at Luna. "Always in the bloody way. . . ." Suddenly his eye caught a glance of another feminine figure sitting by a fidgeting Ron Weasley.

A moment of silence passed.

"Granger? Weren't you wearing a blouse a moment ago?" Malfoy asked, brow raised.

Gryffindor's favorite know-it-all looked up from the notes she was quickly scribbling down. "What? Oh, yes, I suppose I was. It got hot, quite suddenly. I believe that was when I went from phase one to phase two." She shrugged, noticing her satin undershirt was receiving a rather large amount of attention. "Not that the absence of a button-up gives you permission to look, Malfoy."

Draco wiped off a bit of drool, "Like I'd look!" He glanced around, eyes finally traveling heavenward. "I think I need another puff—my head's clearing a bit. . . . Unless I'm the only one seeing the quidditch match, in which case I might be progressing rather quickly."

"Nope." Harry smirked, looking up into the sky—a very clear, blue sky. "The drugs must be wearing off because I see it, too. We're winning."

"The hell you are! _My _team is winning."

"Bollocks!"

Hermione looked up. "Harry! Stop cursing." She raised a brow. "And, by the way, I don't see anyone playing quidditch. I think you're both hallucinating. Sad, really that you're both so unimaginative that you see something so common as a game of quidditch." The young witch blinked at the scowling expressions Ginny and Ron were giving her. "Did I say that out loud?"

"So, Granger, what, in all your intellectual glory, will your hallucinations look like?" Zabini asked, arms around a disappointed Pansy.

The Slytherin princess glared over her shoulder at Blaise. "Excuse me? Can we not concentrate on her? Why can't we discuss our own fantasies?"

"Because, I am so cool and collected that I am presently in phase two and no one has even noticed, and you, little flower, are barely stoned at all."

Pansy squinted her eyes, pushing away from him. "That is not my fault—how was I supposed to know that the muggle weed I smoked this morning would cancel out the Dragon's Breath? And _never_ use my nickname in public again, or I swear to Salazar that you'll never get any from me."

"You haven't gotten any yet?" Draco asked looking away from his 'quidditch game'.

"Will you get your minds out of the restricted section, please?" Ginny groaned, taking the bong away from her lips. "There are minors reading this, you know."

"Gin, I have no idea what you're talking about," Ron said, suddenly pacing, "but don't interrupt them—it's a very rude habit, plus this is rather interesting to us virgins. So shut it, sis. Parkinson, Zabini, go on."

Pansy raised a brow, muttering to the other Slytherins. "What the hell were we talking about?"

"Getting it on," cheered a voice.

The students turned, noticing that the jeer had come from the strange Hufflepuff. Joster, nodded, looking much like a bobble head puppy with dreadlocks.

"Some sick freaks in that house," Draco commented. "Anyhow. . . .Who else is in phase three?" His eyes widened. "Did anyone just see that Dark Mark in the sky? It had butterfly wings. Purple ones. Oh, giant mushrooms, lookit!"

Harry raised a brow. "Well, obviously you're further along than me, but I'm definitely there and. . . ."

Hermione's laughter interrupted him. She let out another string of giggles, obviously seeing something very funny on Ron Weasley's stomach. "I've progressed to that level," she smiled vacantly. "I've got to write this down."

Draco nodded, reaching out to grab something that was apparently running into his face. He dodged the invisible assailant, addressing the group. "Well, the last phase should be approaching momentarily. From what I've read, it's the longest, and apparently the most pleasurable."

"What do we do when it's over? Go to class?" Harry asked. "I think we've smoked all of the Dragon's Breath."

Draco smirked. "Actually, I'm planning to do it all over again. I've got more of the plant arriving shortly. I have another bag coming in; hopefully my new supplier is more reliable than the last one."

"You have a supplier?" Joster asked, still nodding, eyes glazed. "Dude, that must be so cool."

"Well, I am Draco Malfoy," the Slytherin shrugged.

"Oh, Malfoy," Hermione called, looking up suddenly. "There were a few questions I wanted to ask you about the euphoric phase. Funny, I didn't think to ask before I smoked the drug. Anyhow, I recall a story I read about the origin of Dragon's Breath."

"Granger, does anyone really care about that?" Draco sneered.

"Then, you've never read anything about the true purpose of the Dragon's Breath flower?" she asked, looking alarmed. "From what I've read, the name comes from its use by dragons. Apparently, the smoke has drug like qualities in order to insure proper mating. See, the male dragons are known to perform elaborate dances, drawing the attention of the females. When the female lands in a clearing, the male will breath fire over the small red flowers. The smoke insures that both dragons will become intoxicated and ready for mating."

Now showing: Return of the Silence.

The students looked around at each other.

"That's just for big stupid dragons," Ron stated, shaking his head. "I mean, it doesn't cause any stimulation in humans? Right?" He looked around. "Right?"

"Well. . . ." Draco raised a brow. "I've never gotten to fourth phase."

"Or to four base, you prat!" Harry snapped. "Why didn't you tell us about the dragons?"

"Like I knew? What? Did you see a warning label on the package: "may be used for mating rituals"?" Malfoy shouted. "Oh damn. . . ."

"What?" Hermione asked.

"The mushrooms just disappeared—I think I'm going into the four phase."

**End Notes: For a second it felt like I was writing 'what insert-name-here would never say'. . Feedback is very appreciated J**


	5. Chapter 5

**Warning: Very crude humor ahead. You may wish to abandon ship.**

Harry Potter was no ordinary boy. He had faced many dangers, conquered evils and went through his own fair share of mood-swings, so one might expect that waking up naked would not shock Harry very much. One, whoever he or she might be, would be wrong.

Harry was, indeed, very shocked.

"Oh bloody hell!" he shrieked, holding up the cover of the purple sleeping bag with mouth agape. "Where did I put my pants?"

And then, in all his brilliance, he realized that there were far greater questions to be asked, such ask "where am I?" or "why did someone steal my clothes and deposit me in a class room?" Harry, to his credit, was planning on voicing said questions when he realized that he was not alone and that someone else was beating him to the punch.

"Where am I? What the hell's going on? Why can't I'm see!"

Harry raised a brow at the sleeping bag lying a few feet away that seemed to be rolling around of its own accord.

"Oh Merlin! I'm in a cocoon!" a voice screamed from within. "No. . . . OH NO! The spiders! They've got me!"

"Ron?" Harry rolled his eyes. "Ron! Quit shouting—you're in a sleeping bag, for Pete's sake."

A head of tussled red hair popped out of one end of the violet 'chrysalis'. "Oh. Thanks, Harry."

"No problem. Do you remember anything?"

Ron's face scrunched up as he obviously realized that he was missing a few articles of clothing. "Do I want to remember? Because, if this particular memory ends with me and you naked in an empty room, I honestly would like to keep my ignorance."

"You're not alone."

Harry frowned, seeing Neville sitting on a desk to his right. The young wizard gave his friends an abashed smile, arms crossed in front of him. He stood suddenly, picking up what appeared to be two sets of plain black robes and tossing one in Harry's direction, dropping the other in front of Ron.

"Neville? What are you. . . . ? Were you on the rooftop?" Harry asked the other Gryffindor.

"Sort of," Neville answered. "Well, eventually. It's complicated."

"I'm naked—I assumed that it would be before I asked," Harry snapped. "What happened to us, Neville?"

"Yeah, we didn't do anything embarrassing, did we?" Ron asked.

"Embarrassment is the least of our worries," came a cool reply. Blaise Zabini stepped out of the shadowed corner of the room, still adjusting his robe. "I woke up only minutes ago. However, I do remember a few events that took place upstairs—thanks to Pansy, I only got half as stoned as I'd wanted. . . .Anyhow, you should probably ask Longbottom how we got here. After all, it _is _entirely his fault."

Neville shook his head quickly. "Th-that is not true. I wasn't the one smoking DB in school."

Harry sat up, quickly slipping the robe around his shoulders before standing and taking a seat in one of the student desks. "What's Zabini talking about, Neville?"

But the boy had no time to reply.

"God, no. . . . Not this dream again!"

Draco Malfoy's head and bare chest appeared from behind the professor's desk at the front of the room. "Oh. . . . This isn't the dream where . . . .?" At the confused expressions on the faces of the room's other occupants, he shook his head. "Never mind. Wait, on second thought—what the hell am I doing here?"

"Good to see you up, sleeping beauty," Zabini said, smirking at his fellow Slytherin. "Longbottom here was about to fill the others in on his little screw-up."

Draco groaned, slapping his forehead. "Oh, for Salazar's sake, Longbottom, don't tell me the professor's caught you delivering my supply?"

Zabini shook his head. "Worse. . . The Mini. . ."

"Wait a second!" Harry interrupted, waving a hand in the air. "Malfoy, what did you just say about Neville?"

"It's true, Harry." Neville frowned, looking down at his feet. "I'm a drug dealer."

Harry laughed. "This must be a dream. You can't be a supplier. You're, well, you're in Gryffindor."

But it was Ron who stood up in outrage, so stunned that he forgot that he was still completely nude. "You backstabbing little ponce! You sold Slytherins dragon's breath, but you never offered me any! I'll throttle you!" And, at the sound of Draco retching, Ron picked up the robe, getting dressed quickly.

"Before we go any further, can I have some clothes?" Draco said.

Neville looked around nervously. "Sorry, but it seems they didn't leave enough robes for all of you."

The Slytherin Prince let out a low growl, disappearing beneath the professor's desk a moment before popping back up with the violet sleeping bag tightly wrapped around his waist. "Now, Longbottom, before I get even more pissed, or sober, explain how you were caught. Was it Snape again?"

"I only wish," Neville answered. "He's scary, but he just confiscates the stuff. . . No, there was a spy amongst you."

"THE GIRLS!" Ron shouted. "Those little cheats!"

"You idiot," Zabini snapped. "It wasn't one of the girls. I'm sure they were just put in a separate room because of our naked states. It was Joster."

"Who?" Harry and Ron asked as one.

"Of all the stupid." Draco buried his face in his hands, grumbling between his fingers. "Merlin! I can't believe I was so doped up that I didn't realize it earlier."

"You mean that Hufflepuff was a spy?" Harry asked.

"Not a Hufflepuff, Harry," Neville replied. "Actually, he was a twenty-seven-year-old undercover agent for the Ministry. Apparently, they received rumor that Dragon's Breath was spreading around the school, gaining popularity much as it had in the past. You were duped, mate."

Zabini gestured toward the wizard. "Longbottom here showed up while we were. . . .Well, some of us were partaking in rather mature acts. As soon as Draco stopped his fornications long enough to stumble over and make his trade with Longbottom, Joster jumped up, shouting at the top of his lungs, badge out. To my good fortune, I passed out about then."

"And you didn't miss much," Neville said. "I had quite a fright. That _fake _arrested me. You guys could have gotten away if you weren't so preoccupied."

Ron's face went sheet white. "Oh, Merlin, my sister was there. . . .I didn't. . . ."

Neville looked somewhat sick as well, as if the memories were more than he could bear. "No incest, from what I saw. She was on the other side of the roof with Malfoy."

"Malfoy? I think I'm going to throw up," Harry whispered, eyes wide. Then he turned toward Draco, shooting daggers with his gaze. "Did you snog? Did you make-out with my. . . .Ginny?"

Neville held his friend back, reassuringly patting his back. "Don't worry about it, Harry. What's done is done. . . .Plus you were over there. . . ." Feeling the other wizard tense, Longbottom coughed. "Uh, over there keeping an eye on them. Yeah. . . ."

"Oh god. . . ."

"When my head stops spending, I'm going to have to punch someone, for honor's sake," Ron said, leaning against a desk. "What happened afterward, Neville?"

"Well, more officials arrived at the school, and they got into a huge fight with Headmaster Dumbledore. They were arguing about what to do with us. Then they put the girls in one room and we guys in another while they went to battle it out more civilly."

"So, we might get into real trouble for this," Harry hissed. "I'm so hexing you into the next millennium, Malfoy!"

"Like it's my fault?" Draco's jaw dropped in outrage. "All of you are just as guilt as I am! Plus, I was under the influence when I invited you to join me—would I honestly do that if I wasn't stoned."

"Bollocks with your excuses—we're all equally screwed," Ron cried. "My mum's going to murder me before this can ever go to trial."

Before Harry could agree, there was a curt knock on the classroom door.

Neville glanced back at the exit fearfully. "I guess that means they're ready for us."


	6. Chapter 6

"Oh Merlin, Oh Merlin, Oh Merlin. . . ."

"Shut up already, Granger!" Pansy snapped, giving her oversized robes a frustrated sneer as she held up the hem again. While a part of her was upset about the situation, she was surprisingly optimistic, in a haughty my-father-can-soooo-pay-off-the-Ministry way.

"Shut up?" the witch squeaked. Hermione, usually the calmest person in a desperate situation, was panicking, searching every inch of the classroom in haste. "Don't you understand? I can't find my notes! They were the whole reason I experimented with those blasted drugs in the first place."

"Why don't you just admit the crime in court, too!" the Slytherin Princess hissed, grabbing the other girl by the elbow and gesturing toward the open classroom door at an impatient looking Professor Minerva McGonagall who appeared to have her back to the small group.

Ginny was perched on one of the table tops, a nervous edge to her gaze as Luna tried to comfort the red-head, ignoring the other two girls in the room.

"I'm sure you didn't sleep with your brother," the blonde girl was whispering. "And if you did, no one will blame you—Ron's really not that bad looking. If I had a brother that looked that handsome in a quidditch uniform, I'd. . . ."

"LUNA! Please don't complete that sentence!" Ginny snapped.

"Well, if crazy moon is quite finished, I can insure you, Weaselette, that you did not stroke the King Weasel's furnace," Pansy drawled, crossing the room with Hermione in tow. "Sure, you were the meat between a bit of whole grain and white bread, but your brother wasn't involved at all."

Ginny lost all color in her face. "But we. . . .all of us were. . . . involved in. . . ."

Pansy shrugged. "I was as stoned as you were. I only faintly remember a contraceptive spell being used on a certain. . . ." She looked dazed a moment before catching herself and releasing a very rare blush. "Nevermind."

"Ladies, if you're quite ready," McGonagall finally said, "Headmaster Dumbledore is ready to see you. Come along."

88888888888

Nine seats were crowded into the small space in front of Headmaster Dumbledore's desk, all of them currently occupied with students. From Gryffindor house, there sat Harry Potter, Ron and Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom. Representing Slytherin were Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, and Blaise Zabini. The lone Ravenclaw, Luna Lovegood, sat amidst the group as well, making faces at a portrait on the wall. All of them were prime (though not necessarily upstanding) members of their houses, and they were all gathered here for one reason. . . .

Ehem. . . ._A few similar_ reasons.

"Possession of an illegal substance, possession of a stolen bong, disregard of school classes, use of illegal substance on school property, display of sexual behavior on school property, and public nudity. . . .The list goes on." Dumbledore looked up from the long roll of parchment, over his half moon spectacles. "Do you have anything to say for yourselves?"

The students' eyes traveled to and from their school mates' in silence.

"It was Malfoy's fault!" Ron shouted.

When no one spoke, the red-head shrugged. "Worth a shot," he muttered.

"We're so sorry, Headmaster," Hermione spouted suddenly. "We deserve to be punished for breaking school rules; but, sir, we did it in hopes of a better education for tomorrow! Perhaps the reason why drug usage became necessary was that it was something unknown—all knowledge of it kept from us. And one can not help but want the unattainable. Why if the Ministry had not made the drug illegal, then we'd never have. . . ."

"Yes, Miss Granger," Dumbledore interrupted, nodding. "I believe I know where you're going with you zealous speech. However, you must know that what you did was dangerous. While Dragon's Breath does not cause the same harmful effects of muggle drugs, it still, regrettably, caused the lot of you to break several school regulations."

The old wizard turned, looking at the two doors to his office where Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall stood, stoical expressions on their faces. "Severus, would you please give Miss Granger her parchment. Don't give me that look, my boy. I know you have it."

Snape frowned, pulling a stack of parchment scraps from his robes. He shoved them at Hermione. The young witch's eyes widened when she noticed what they were.

"These are my notes," she muttered.

"Indeed they are," Dumbledore said with a sigh. "And I must say, you gave very interesting details on the drug's effects, including the fourth phase. In fact, you gave a _very_ descriptive account of an encounter with a Mr. Blaise Zabini."

The dark Slytherin gave her a wink.

"As well as several illustrations," Snape muttered.

Hermione blushed, reading over the parchment. "Oh dear. . . ."

"Hey! You went with Zabini?" Ron screeched.

"Who were you with, Ron?" Hermione snapped in reply.

The young wizard opened his mouth to speak, but seeing the tarty smirk on Pansy Parkinson's face, he shut it again.

Dumbledore was nodding sagely. "As you see, children, there are always consequences. Thankfully, the Ministry will not possess the evidence you're holding in your hands. It is, how do I say this gracefully, blackmail."

"Blackmail? Who's being blackmailed?" Harry asked.

The old headmaster had a glimmer in his eye, and the younger wizard's mouth quickly closed.

"You see, none of you will be going to trial for possession of Dragon's Breath," Dumbledore smiled. "While exposing the new Minister of Magic's previous relationship with the drug would probably be enough to get you off, it was the Ministry spy who ruined the case. It seems that Miss Granger noted the Ministry worker in a compromising situation with Miss Lovegood, an under aged witch."

Hermione stood quickly, looking back at the other students. "That's brilliant!"

Silence.

"Don't you see! The Ministry could never bring us to trial without revealing a huge scandal! The public would have a field day with that news—not to mention that the spy would be imprisoned for having sex with Luna! This is fabulous."

"Yes, it was rather nice," Luna said with a dreamy grin.

"I'd be disgusted if I wasn't so thrilled," Harry commented. "Then we're off the hook?"

"Oh, it's never that easy," Malfoy commented with a snort.

"Mr. Malfoy is correct," Dumbledore agreed.

The group of students quieted once more, panic taking all of their enthusiasm.

"Detention?" Neville asked feebly.

"House points?" Ginny asked with a frown.

Nervously, Hermione chipped in, "Expulsion?"

"Oh, no," Dumbledore answered quickly. "Nothing like that. I do say, you may actually enjoy this punishment." The wizard reached into his desk, pulling out a long box. He opened it carefully, revealing its contents to the teens.

"Brilliant!" Ron laughed.

There were nine buttons lined in a row, each of the, embossed with the emblem of a serpentine dragon circling a small flower. And a banner crossed through each, reading the two words that would forever change the lives of witches and wizards everywhere: LEGALIZE IT.

The students burst into laugher and sighs of relief, but Dumbledore raised a hand to silence them.

"This is a greater responsibility than any of you can possibly imagine. You will face the public, the Ministry, your own housemates and professors. But, if you choose to accept these buttons, than you will be working for a great cause, the legalization of Dragon's Breath. So I ask you, do you accept this challenge?"

The horde looked from one to another, expressions gleaming in silent agreement.

Draco rolled his eyes when he saw Harry puff up his chest in pride, ready to speak for the group. "Bloody hell, don't be so dramatic!" the Slytherin snapped. "We agree already!"

Dumbledore smiled. "Very well. Your campaign begins this summer. Good luck!"

"Oh, and my bong, Headmaster. . . . ?"

"Don't push it, Mr. Malfoy."

**_FIN _**

**End Notes: Well, I hope you enjoyed the tale. Be sure to drop a line and let me know what you thought. **

**Oh,** **and there will be a similar follow up one-shot. It's called "Moony and Snivellus: Up in Smoke". It's about a bit of confiscated drugs. **


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